Fatalis
by T'Reilani
Summary: Rodimus has crossed the wrong pair of females: Riella and Ember. Neither are too fond of the Second-In-Command to begin with, and now they are plotting to eliminate the irritant in their lives. Co-written by T'Reilani and TacticianZephine.


**AN: This is co-written by myself and TacticianZephine, and it was pretty much her idea in the first place. So compliments go mostly to her. :) Ember belongs to her as well. Riella, of course, is mine. This is Shattered Glass, but it doesn't take place in the same universe as _Cybernetic Queen._**

_**Fatalis**_

_**Chapter 1**_

Ember gently dabbed at the helm of one of her older trophies with the gloss coat again, to restore the shine of the plating. Her pet scraplet scuttled back and forth in its tank, nibbling on a palmful of metal filings she'd acquired from the medical bay.

"Yes, there we are," she cooed to the head, setting her gloss brush down and picking up the spray can of gloss coat, methodically spraying the blue plating. "There we are, just a few more touches and you will be looking gorgeous!"

Ember sighed contentedly, turning the head over in her hands to examine her touch-ups. She picked up another brush, dipping it into a container marked "highlighter", which appeared to be a clear, almost-gel that she brushed around the edges of the optics in short strokes, then over the optic itself in long sweeps. The optics seemed to shine with life, once the gel dried.

She smiled cruelly at the head again. "There we go! You look so lifelike! Oh my, I hope you are not real!" she joked morbidly, giggling and tapping the nasal bridge of the face.

The doors to her gallery hissed open, and a terrifying scream ripped through the air. "EMBER!"

The dark femme jumped at the sudden noise, nearly dropping her head. She tenderly replaced it on its spike, and turned to face the newcomer.

"_What_, Riella?" she snapped. "You _know _not to interrupt me when I hang my 'do not disturb' sign! My art therapy is very important! It keeps me sane."

She was ignored as the red femme's elbow was thrust into her faceplates, a claw jabbing at some point on it. "Look at it! It's hideous! There is a huge, hideous scratch on my elbow!"

Ember peered at it. "I see nothing."

"Jazz said he could see it down the hall! Elita too!"

"Both of them know how you react to that. You are giving them what they want. There is nothing there."

"Look closer! I felt it!"

Ember turned up the intensity of her optics and scrutinized the area. Finally, she barely spotted the tiniest of tiny nicks in the plating. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!"

"I have the optics for this sort of thing, and I barely saw it."

"FIX IT!" Riella howled.

Ember sighed, leading her colleague into the back of the gallery, into a room called "the workshop", where she meticulously separated the heads when she could, and cleaned up the necks when they'd been hurriedly cut. She gestured to the slab, strapping the other femme to it.

"... why are you strapping me in?"

"Because you will flail, and screw me up." She turned the afflicted arm upward, securing it in place before padding over to her toolkit. She picked up a sander, a paint gun, and a rotary buffer. "I have a trophy with your exact paint color, thank Unicron," she announced, loading the paint into the gun and setting it on a tray attached to the slab. "Now, if your arm jerks and I do any damage, I swear I will step on everything you love." She dragged her bladed heel along the edge of the slab to prove her point.

"Is this going to hurt?"

"Beauty is pain, darling," she said simply, firing up the sander. She lowered it to the other female's arm, not even flinching as sparks began to fly.

Riella yelped and twitched, but the straps held her arm still. "Ow!"

"I told you," Ember muttered, adjusting the position of the sander against Riella's elbow. "This is so minor, I cannot believe you even noticed it."

"Rodimus." The red femme snarled the 2IC's name as if it alone was enough to explain.

"Really. He pointed it out?" Satisfied that the surface of the metal had been sanded down to the correct point, Ember set the sander aside and picked up the loaded paint gun. "That seems rather petty, even for him."

Riella shook her head emphatically and would have gestured, if not for the straps still holding her down. "He _caused _it!"

Ember sighed. "You know I like Rodimus even less than you do, but why must you constantly pick fights with him?" Carefully, she added the last bit of paint to the tiny scratch and set the paint gun aside. "This will take a moment to dry. Do _not_ move, or I will have to start over."

"I _didn't_ pick a fight," Riella complained. "I was just walking down the hall! He's the one who shoved me into a doorframe for _no fragging reason!_"

"And were you by any chance returning from Prime's room at the time?"

"Well, yes, but…" The red femme slumped back against the table and pouted. "Why does Optimus even keep him _around_?"

Ember rolled her optics. "I thought we had gotten past this. Rodimus is in his position because it allows Prime to keep an optic on him. He may be jealous of your…_unique_…relationship with Prime, but he is no threat to it. All he can really do is make small jabs in your direction."

"No, no, that's not what I mean." Riella twisted and craned her neck. "Is the paint dry yet? This is uncomfortable."

"It will dry when it dries. What do you mean?"

"I mean, Rodimus is a pain in the aft, an _obvious _traitor, and anyone could do his job. So why does Optimus let him live?"

Ember raised one optic ridge as she reached for the rotary buffer. "You want Rodimus killed over a paint scratch?"

Riella winced as the buffer touched her elbow. "Not necessarily, unless he makes a habit of it. But are you saying you'd complain? The son of a glitch has been asking for it ever since he got promoted. So why won't Optimus kill him? Why hasn't someone else taken him down yet?"

"Hmmm." Ember had to raise her voice to make herself heard over the mechanical noise. "I have never challenged him because he has allies that I do not care to cross at this time. As for why Prime lets him live, well, perhaps you should ask _him _that."

"Ha! And risk my one relationship that _didn't _end with me threatening to strangle him if he didn't get a life because I've moved on?" Riella tried to flick one hand dismissively, but couldn't due to the straps and had to settle for an optic roll. "Even I don't get to question Optimus. Why don't you ask?"

"Because you raised the question." Ember shut down the rotary buffer abruptly and began unfastening the straps. "There. If I have to do that again today, you will have more to worry about than a small scratch."


End file.
